What Becomes of the Broken Hearted?
by zerodawn22
Summary: Fleur loses her mate Bill. To her mother's horror, she begins to suffer the effects of her Veela heritage, unable to survive without her mate. Can Hermione Granger save the day? Eventual Fleurmione.
1. Chapter 1

Apolline Delacour was many things: cold, intimidating, proud. But she was also a loving mother. She had sacrificed much to raise her daughters in the Delacour way. While she did not regret taking a hard hand with her parenting, she had feared that her stern parenting had pushed Fleur to move to Britain and Gabrielle to move to Scandinavia.

Apolline was sitting in her large wooden home office by the fireplace in a lavish armchair. She had allowed herself the luxury of kicking her high heels off and was relishing the plush fur rug between her toes.

She had just picked up her glass of red wine and was nursing it in her long emerald nailed hand when there was a rap at the door and a maid entered. The maid was comically wrangling a large owl that was trying to nip at her, but managed to pry the letter from the owl to deliver it to Apolline.

Apolline inclined her head politely at the maid and waited until the girl had left the room with the squirming owl before she allowed herself the luxury of reaction. She could recognise the neat, looping scrawl at fifty paces. It was a letter from Fleur.

The door had barely snapped shut behind the maid when Apolline tore the letter open frantically. Tears welled in her eyes as she read the long letter from Fleur, informing her of what she had been up to since leaving France. It was near the end of the letter when Apolline reached the point for Fleur breaking her silence. She had met her mate.

It was rare for those with diluted Veela blood to have a mate, but for those that do, it is a fantastic experience. Apolline was overjoyed for Fleur. Overjoyed, but nervous. She knew the implications of her daughter being so heavily bonded to another for life.

Six months later, when Fleur came for a rare visit to her family in France, it was obvious she was nervous too. Fleur was usually of a reserved and cold demeanour like her mother. But on bringing her fiancé to the Delacour mansion, she appeared uncharacteristically nervous. Her long silver-blonde hair was in a plait hanging over her shoulder, which she was fiddling with. Her perfect white teeth were biting at a soft lip anxiously.

Beside her was a handsome, broad-shouldered young man. He had a chiselled jaw and long-ish red hair that he had tied back. Seeming to sense the nervousness in his fiancée, he put an arm around her, reassuring her. Fleur immediately appeared to relax, a smile adorning her beautiful face.

And it was in this moment that Apolline met Fleur and her fiancé together in the entranceway of the mansion.

Bill Weasley was an incredibly handsome, tall, well-muscled man with an infectious smile. The second Apolline entered the entranceway to get them, he strode up to her and engulfed the surprised woman in a warm hug (Apolline would eventually learn this was a habit he had picked up from his mother).

Most visitors to the Delacour mansion were intimidated. Over the years, the teenaged Fleur and Gabrielle had brought many paramours home to meet Apolline, only for them to become so terrified and intimidated that they would make an excuse to leave within the first ten minutes.

But Bill was different. He accompanied them into the sitting room and appeared entirely at ease, sitting back in a chair and making polite inquiries. In return, he also responded to every single one of Apolline's needling questions with an easy quirked smile.

In fact, it wasn't long into meeting Bill that Apolline herself was smiling and laughing more easily than she had in years. This seemed to startle Fleur at first, but soon she was also at ease and smiling.

And perhaps this showed one of the one of the best things about Bill: he mended the tensions between Apolline and her daughter.

Fleur began to return to France more frequently to visit her mother and relatives, even inviting Apolline to England on many occasions. Apolline even walked Fleur down the aisle at her wedding to Bill, beaming as the redheaded young man smiled warmly at them both.

But then the war broke out. Apolline had urged the young couple to retreat to France to stay with her in the safety of Delacour mansion. But even as she had offered, she knew it simply was not in Fleur or Bill's nature to back away from assisting in a war.

Apolline could not sleep well after that. She would lie in her canopied bed listening to the wind and rain lash the mansion and think of all the different horrors that could strike Fleur and Bill.

It on one of these nights when there was a loud crashing noise. Apolline sat up in bed in a cold sweat, wondering if it was the crash of thunder outside. But then there was another rapping and she realised it had come from the window. She got up from her bed, wrapping her dressing gown around herself and strode to the window, pulling a curtain back to reveal a rain-drenched owl rapping desperately at the pane of glass.

Apolline opened her window quickly, just allowing enough time for the owl to jump in before snapping it shut to keep the cold and rain out. Apolline scooped the owl up, taking it over to her crackling fireplace which was still flaming with embers.

With a swish of her wand she had dried the owl and she untied the letter from its leg and dried that too. She grabbed a small bag of owl treats absent-mindedly from the hearth as she shook open the letter, scanning its message intently in the dim light of the ebbing fire.

She dropped the bag of owl treats as a gasp escaped her mouth. The war was over.

The little owl greedily flapped to the floor and began pecking at loose owl treats that had fallen out of the bag. Apolline kept reading.

The next sentence caused Apolline's blood to run cold. Bill was dead.

* * *

Apolline was surprised at the restraint Fleur exhibited at Bill's funeral. Apolline gripped her daughter's arm, watching as Bill's coffin was slowly lowered into the ground, silent tears streaming down her face. But as she looked at her daughter, the young widow was dry eyed and stoney faced. Apolline frowned.

As soon as the service was over, Fleur pulled her arm out of her mother's grip, striding away without a word. She ignored greetings and approaches from everyone as she walked away, disappearing around the corner of the small church.

"She's probably in shock," someone said awkwardly at Apolline's elbow. Apolline turned to see a bushy haired young woman, offering her a glass of water.

"Eet ees somezing else altogezzer," Apolline said snappily with a frown, brushing past the woman to follow her the path of her daughter. To her incredible annoyance, the young woman followed.

"Can I help? I'm a qualified mediwitch," the bushy haired woman asked, her voice laced with concern.

Apolline whirled around, irritated by this woman's interruption.

"'Oo are you? I do not see 'ow zis would be any of your business." Apolline said curtly. She turned back to following the direction where Fleur had gone, not waiting for a response.

The bushy haired woman kept pace, continuing to look worried, "I'm Hermione Granger. I'm a family friend of the Weasleys and fought with Fleur in the war. Sh-she helped me recover in the war and I would like to help her if something is wrong."

Apolline didn't have a chance to throw another retort Hermione as they rounded the corner of the church. Apolline gasped. Fleur was on the ground, deathly pale, her blonde hair strewn out around her on the grass. Apolline ran to her side, kneeling on the ground and cradling Fleur's head in her hands. Hermione ran to kneel at the other side of Fleur, immediately checking her vitals.

Fleur opened her eyes weakly.

"Maman…" she murmured, "It hurts…"

She lifted an arm weakly, gesturing to her chest. Hermione looked baffled.

"Wh-what is it?" Hermione asked, paling. Apolline sighed and looked up from the pained expression of her daughter.

"Ze Veela…" Apolline said, her heart heavy as she found the words to articulate in English, "…Cannot survive losing zeir mate…"

* * *

Apolline sat in a small chair beside her daughter's hospital bed. Fleur was asleep, her long dark lashes flickering as if she was having bad dreams. Apolline wrung her hands.

She had owled Gabrielle as soon as they had got to the hospital, but it would be some time before the owl would reach her.

There was a small clink at the side table beside her and Apolline looked up to see a pair of warm chocolate eyes.

"Cup of tea?" Hermione said quietly, in her polite British accent. Apolline sighed. The girl grated her, but she had been helpful. The second they had reached St. Mungos, Hermione had pulled her Golden Trio strings to get Fleur the best doctor on Fleur's case and even volunteered to assist the doctor with researching the case.

"Merci," Apolline said, her voice husky from having sat at Fleur's side without a drink for so long, "Alzough I would much razzer a wine in moments like zis." Hermione smiled.

"They didn't have that in the hospital caf' unfortunately," Hermione said, quirking a smile. Apolline smiled tightly back before taking a much needed sip of her tea.

"I don't mean to be rude," Hermione said, breaking the silence, "But shouldn't you have anticipated this would happen the moment you got the news about Bill?"

Apolline shook her head sadly, "She eez only un quarter Veela, I 'ad zought zat would spare 'er from ze curse of zis. Ozzers wiz diluted blood 'ave experienced no symptoms after losing a mate. I guess my Fleur eez just unlucky."

Hermione looked thoughtful and rubbed at her forearm meaningfully. Apolline looked curiously at the arm. There were a couple of incredibly faded scars, but nothing else of note there.

"I was once unlucky, and then I found my luck again," Hermione murmured, looking at the sleeping figure of Fleur. She cleared her throat and then moved abruptly to the door.

"Where are you going?" Apolline asked, vaguely interested by the strange bushy haired girl.

"To find a cure," Hermione said firmly, before disappearing from the doorway into the darkness of the hallway.


	2. Chapter 2

Gabrielle woke up to a rapping at the window by an owl. She ran her hands over her face before looking at her sleeping bed-mate beside her.

The brunette curls of the well muscled man beside her shook as he buried his head further into the pillow, trying to ignore the racket of the owl at the window.

Gabrielle had always been somewhat the opposite of Fleur. Where Fleur embodied the restraint of the Delacour's outwardly, she had always been free with her heart, longing to find her true love.

Gabrielle on the other hand, was always free and warm with everyone she met, but kept her heart carefully protected. She preferred fun, safe encounters with people like the man beside her now—where they were perfectly lovely but she had zero chance of catching feelings for them.

Similarly, Gabrielle had not been able to face the heartache of watching her older sister bury her mate, and she had invented a reason to remain in Norway for the funeral. She supposed the owl at the window would be a terse message from Fleur, calling her out for not showing up.

She sighed and got up out of bed, grabbing a silk gown to cover herself before crossing the room to the window. She opened the window and the large barn owl hopped in, lifting its leg obediently for her to untie the scroll of parchment.

Gabrielle gave the owl some treats and sent it on its way again, turning her back to the window again to read the message. Her eyebrows immediately lifted in horror. It appeared Fleur needed her support after all.

"Fucking Veela blood," Gabrielle cursed, crossing her room immediately to pull her drawers open. She would have to pack quickly if she was to leave tonight.

* * *

Gabrielle did not even stop at her hotel room first before arriving at St Mungo's. She smiled warmly at the man at reception but pressed firmly for the details of where her sister was. Thankfully, her Veela blood worked, as always, and he told her that although visiting hours were technically over, he could direct her to Fleur's room.

Gabrielle entered the darkened room, her heart sinking as she saw the pale figure of Fleur laid out in bed unconscious. There appeared to be a number of vials of potions on the tables in the room. An alarming amount, if Gabrielle were to be honest.

She sat in the chair next to the bed, taking one of Fleur's hands. It was cold to the touch, startling Gabrielle.

Fleur looked as serene as always in her unconsciousness, only a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead revealing her illness. But Gabrielle knew that their Veela blood would always prevent them from exhibiting how unwell they were. Doomed to always look flawless, Gabrielle smirked darkly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realise someone was in here," a voice said softly from the doorway. Gabrielle looked up to see the familiar form of the member of the Golden Trio, Hermione Granger, in the doorway.

"Hermione, good to see you," Gabrielle said softly, although her voice betrayed her unhappiness.

"I'm working on Fleur's case," Hermione explained, walking into the room and taking a seat next to Gabrielle.

"Its cruel isn't it?" Gabrielle remarked, her sapphire eyes returning to look at her sister's form.

"What is?" Hermione asked.

"For the Veela to experience the joys of finding their one true mate, only to die if they lose them."

"I never believed in the whole 'one true love' concept," Hermione commented, putting down her satchel and beginning to pull some papers out of it.

"Really?" Gabrielle asked.

"Really." Hermione repeated, "You know at one point, Bill's brother was my 'one true love.' I would be a bit upset if I wasn't ever to have another great love just because things didn't work out with him."

"Ah, Ronald," Gabrielle commented, vaguely recalling seeing them together at Bill and Fleur's wedding, "The one who always stared at Fleur."

"She certainly is beautiful to look at," Hermione murmured, looking at Fleur. Gabrielle turned her attention from her sister to Hermione, noting the look on Hermione's face as she watched Fleur.

"How do you anticipate helping my sister?" Gabrielle asked, interested in Hermione's role. Hermione cleared her throat and returned her gaze to her papers.

"Well… I have always had an interest in Magical Creatures," she explained, gesturing to her paperwork, "I am hoping that my research in that area will help with her healing."

"You think you understand the Veela?" Gabrielle asked, surprised. Non-Veela usually did not have a particularly good grasp of the Veela, considering research on them was hard to come by.

"Enough," Hermione smiled, before looking up at Gabrielle, "But hopefully you can help me with the gaps."

Gabrielle smiled. Of course. Hermione was known as the "brightest witch of her age." Gabrielle should have expected that her research skills would far exceed the average Magical Creature enthusiast.

"I suppose my mother is already in town," Gabrielle said, keeping her tone neutral. But unlike Fleur, she did not have the gift of hiding her feelings from her face. Hermione looked at her curiously.

"Yes, she brought her in with me and remained here right up until visiting hours closed. Then she went to her hotel to have a wine and try to relax."

"Of course," Gabrielle snorted, "That sounds like her."

"You don't get along with your mother?" Hermione asked gently, almost as if not expecting an answer.

"She was always very hard on me and Fleur," Gabrielle said in a hard voice. But her face soon softened and she yawned, "I am sorry, but I must go find my hotel room, if Fleur wakes please let her know I am here."

Hermione nodded.

Gabrielle stretched and got up, picking up her bag and heading to the doorway. As she reached the doorway and took a look back into her sister's room, she looked at Hermione, running a hand through her messy curls and scribbling all over her notes. Gabrielle wondered if the woman had even slept since bringing Fleur into the hospital.

* * *

Fleur was standing in the grass by the small chapel where Bill's funeral service had been held. But it was completely abandoned, with nobody to be seen for miles. She felt a presence behind her and turned around.

Bill was standing there with his usual quirked smile.

"My flower," he said with a smile.

Fleur felt a pain in her heart. Soft at first and then harder and harder.

Bill's smile faded.

"You have to let me go," he said, his voice echoing oddly around the area.

* * *

Fleur awoke with a gasp, sweat drenching her and an excruciating pain searing through her body. It felt as if she were experiencing a cruciatus curse.

She let out a strangled cry.

There was a cool cloth on her forehead and a potion at her lips, that she sipped at, eager for anything to take away the pain. To her relief, the pain subsided, although it was still painfully present.

As her breathing returned to normal, she lay back on her pillow, looking up at the woman wiping her forehead with the cool cloth.

"H-Hermione?" she asked croakily.

"I'm here for you, Fleur," Hermione answered, withdrawing to put the now-empty vial on a table next to the bed. Fleur looked around, noting her surroundings indicated she was at a hospital.

"What is happening?" she asked, confused.

"You collapsed at Bill's funeral," Hermione explained slowly, "Your mother and I took you here. She is concerned that your Veela blood is causing you to experience the loss of Bill in a… physical way."

Fleur thought for a moment, remembering her mother explaining the joys and risks associated with Bill being her mate so long ago.

"I am dying…" Fleur said slowly, with a dawning horror. The death of a Veela after losing a mate was said to be an excruciating and slow death. She had always hoped that her quarter-blood status would protect her from that.

"Not if I can help it," Hermione said determinedly, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze.

"Hermione…" Fleur said softly. Hermione had always held a special place in her heart after they had bonded during the war. Hermione had come to Shell Cottage as a husk of herself after being tortured at the hands of Bellatrix. Slowly but surely, Fleur had nursed her back to health. Fleur remembered the many sleepless nights she had spent studying how to break the curse on the deep cuts spelling out _'mudblood'_ on Hermione's arm. She hoped Hermione was not here out of some misplaced obligation to return the favour. She had done it out of care and concern for Hermione, not because she had expected anything in return.

Hermione brushed a stray piece of hair off Fleur's face. "Gabrielle is here too, she has just gone to her hotel to sleep."

"Have you slept?" Fleur asked, noting the darkness around Hermione's eyes.

"I wanted to be here in case you woke up," Hermione explained.

"Hermione…" Fleur sighed, trying to ignore the dull pain raging throughout her, "You do not owe me anything for looking after you in the war."

"I know, Fleur," Hermione said, an unreadable expression on her face, "I just… I don't want you to die. I care too much about you."

Fleur squeezed her hand, "I care about you too, enough that I don't want you wearing yourself out because of me. Sleep, Hermione."

Hermione reluctantly nodded, slowly collecting her papers and returning them to her satchel.

"If you need me, I, erm, I have these coins." Hermione explained clumsily, pulling what looked like a gold Galleon out of her pocket and placing it in Fleur's hand.

"We used them for the DA back at Hogwarts," Hermione explained, "If you need me, just tap _there_ and mine will heat up and I will know you need me."

Fleur smiled, it was sweet of Hermione. Hermione nodded, satisfied and left the room.

Fleur played with the Galleon in her hands, her mind racing.

Due to the end of the war resulting in such mass death, the countless bodies had been preserved and the funerals spread out over a period of time. Bill had died six months prior to his funeral, and Fleur had been feeling the pangs of pain within her grow during that time. She wondered if things would have been different if she had told someone earlier. But she hadn't. Her loss had just seemed one of the many as she had dutifully attended several memorials and funerals a week in the wake of the war.

She was snapped out of her thoughts by her mother entering the room.

" _Why did you not tell me, Fleur_?" Apolline asked in French, taking the seat Hermione had just vacated. Morning light was streaming through the hospital window, causing Apolline's silver-blonde hair to glitter. The blessing of her half-Veela blood meant that although she was in her fifties, she appeared only to be in her early thirties. Fleur pulled a face.

" _A Delacour doesn't show weakness,"_ Fleur replied bitterly, also in French. Apolline did not react.

 _"_ _All the same, Fleur, we could have helped. We could have done something."_

Fleur shook her head, turning her face away from her mother to look at the wall.

 _"_ _All this time, you and Gabrielle have avoided love, afraid of the Veela Curse._ _Well, I suppose this justifies that you were both right."_

Apolline took her daughter's hand, her heart breaking at the physical and emotional pain her daughter was going through.

* * *

Hermione yawned loudly as she reached her apartment, dropping her satchel on the sofa as she entered. She had been awake for such a long time her body was practically screaming for bed.

Her flatmate, Ginny, was standing in the kitchen finishing some toast and looked at her watch.

"You're just getting home now? I thought you were in your room asleep." Ginny remarked.

"She's dying, Gin," Hermione said, devastation in her voice. Ginny looked sympathetic, putting down her toast on the table and coming to wrap her arms around Hermione to comfort her.

"You still love her, don't you?" Ginny said softly in Hermione's ear. Hermione started to cry.

* * *

Gabrielle awoke to the cold English morning sun, stretching before getting up to shower. She showered quickly and dressed even faster, grabbing a piece of fruit before apparating back to the hospital.

Gabrielle paused only to get a coffee before returning to Fleur's room.

 _"_ _Ah you finally decided to show up,"_ Apolline remarked coldly in French. Gabrielle rolled her eyes. Seconds into seeing her mother again and she was already on brand.

 _"_ _I came as fast as I could, maman,"_ Gabrielle said petulantly, before noticing that Fleur was awake.

 _"_ _Gabrielle,"_ Fleur exclaimed, and tears sprung into the younger sister's eyes at the sound of her sister calling out to her. She moved across the room rapidly to embrace Fleur, sobbing into Fleur's shoulder and ignoring the disapproving glares her mother was boring into her back. Her mother had never been a fan of losing composure. Fleur stroked her hair softly before releasing her.

Gabrielle settled herself into a seat next to her mother who was flipping through the pages of a document.

 _"_ _Fleur's friend Hermione Granger left her first draft of research for us to review. She certainly knows more about the Veela than any non-Veela I have ever come across."_ Apolline remarked, gesturing to a paragraph to show Gabrielle.

 _"_ _She is famous for being intelligent,"_ Gabrielle replied, scanning over the document.

 _"_ _The 'brightest witch of her year,'"_ Fleur commented weakly from her bed.

 _"_ _She certainly seems fond of you, Fleur,"_ Gabrielle replied, looking up at her sister. Fleur smiled at that. _"I came here very late last night when I first arrived and she was still sitting beside your bed watching over you."_

 _"_ _She was here this morning when I woke up, too,"_ Fleur said, still smiling. Apolline looked curiously at Fleur.

 _"_ _Perhaps I judged the girl too quickly,"_ Apolline remarked.

 _"_ _You? Judging someone harshly so soon? No_ …" Gabrielle said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She smirked as her mother glared daggers at her.

The Delacours remained at Fleur's side for the rest of the day, only leaving to collect food or drink to have at Fleur's bedside. By the afternoon, Hermione had returned to take Fleur's vitals.

"'Ermione, I must say I am eempressed by your research," Apolline commented to Hermione as she drew blood from Fleur.

"Could it help?" Hermione said hopefully, looking up from Fleur. Apolline cocked her head to one side.

"Would you mind eef I sent it to ze Veela elders?" Apolline asked.

"Of course not, the more information the better the chance we have of making Fleur better," Hermione said, smiling down at Fleur. Fleur smiled back at her weakly.

Gabrielle watched her curiously.

" _Excellent_ , I shall send eet away at once for review," Apolline said, striding out of the room in the direction of the hospital owlery.

"Erm, so now I just need to check your heartbeat," Hermione said awkwardly, producing a stethoscope. Fleur nodded obliviously.

"You know they have these in muggle medicine too," Hermione babbled awkwardly, "Except of course, without the magic element to it."

Gabrielle smirked at Hermione's obvious nervousness.

Hermione moved Fleur's hospital gown down slightly to place the stethoscope on her chest, blushing at the cleavage she could now see. But she listened to what the stethoscope was saying into her ear and soon removed it again and scribbled some more notes on her clipboard.

"How did you become a mediwitch so fast?" Gabrielle asked curiously. She knew from the media that the Golden Trio had existed entirely off the grid during the war.

"I was awarded an honorary graduation from Hogwarts, and while on the road studied a lot on healing… for necessity's sake." Hermione explained, "They put me on a fast-tracked course because of my existing knowledge bank and I qualified just before I saw Fleur and your mother at Bill's funeral."

"Impressive," Fleur said weakly, and Hermione blushed again.

"Well, I'd better go get these results to the other doctor and get onto testing these samples." Hermione said awkwardly before leaving the room again.

 _"_ _She's in love with you, Fleur,"_ Gabrielle commented, as soon as Hermione had left the room.

 _"_ _Hermione? No. We just became close during the war,"_ Fleur replied dismissively.

 _"_ _I have seen the way she looks at you, Fleur,"_ Gabrielle pressed further, _"She is in love with you."_

Fleur looked thoughtful for a moment, but then lay back further in her bed, her eyes flickering shut.

Gabrielle was alarmed by how many naps Fleur had to have during the day so far. Surely that could not be a good sign.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello! This chapter contains a short flashback so that will be in italics. Reviews make me smile :)**

* * *

Fleur sat on the beach, sifting sand through her bare feet. The wind was whipping through her long silver-blonde hair, sending a platinum cloud of hair behind Bill beside her. He had his trousers rolled up to his knees and was leaning back on his hands.

"We had some great times here, didn't we?" he said, nodding back over the dunes towards Shell Cottage.

"It's a shame we will never get to have another summer here," Fleur commented, her eyes remaining on the waves at the horizon.

"I won't. But that doesn't mean you can't Fleur." Bill said firmly, his voice gruff as he tried to stop it from breaking.

Fleur smiled sadly and turned her head to look back at Bill, putting a hand on top of his.

The hairs prickled at the back of Fleur's neck and she became aware of another presense. Bill smiled at her and she turned away from him to see another figure sitting down in the sand on the other side of her.

* * *

"Hermione?" Fleur croaked, her mouth dry. Her eyes were still coming back into focus as she awoke but she could recognise those curls and the scent of parchment anywhere.

Her vision came back into focus and she became aware that tears were streaming down the young woman's cheeks.

"What is wrong, Hermione?" Fleur asked, her voice clearer. Hermione sniffled and wiped her face hurriedly with her sleeve.

"Erm, nothing, how are you feeling?" Hermione said softly, trying and failing to smile. She looked exhausted, her eyes were dark.

"Probably about as well as you look," Fleur said, feeling the now-familiar pain aching in the background. Hermione looked a little horrified and self consciously pulled at her bushy curls.

"I am sorry, Hermione, it was meant to be a joke, you just look tired is all," Fleur backtracked, feeling quite guilty at making the younger witch self-conscious, "You are beautiful, I promise."

Hermione coughed and looked down at her hands, a pink tinge adorning her cheeks. It struck Fleur now that perhaps Gabrielle was right about Hermione's feelings. She had always felt a strange kind of connection to Hermione after nursing her better following Malfoy Manor. She had never really thought about how Hermione had felt towards her, though.

"I'm sorry this is happening to you," Hermione said, the colour leaving her cheeks again, "Its not fair."

"Its not, is it?" Fleur mused, leaning back on the bed and looking at the ceiling. The potions must be beginning to wear off, the pain was encroaching again. The room was becoming dimmer and colder and she gritted her teeth.

A sudden warmth cut through it and the room brightened a little. Fleur looked and Hermione had put her hand on top of hers. In her other hand she was holding a vial.

"Here. For the pain," Hermione offered. Fleur smiled weakly, allowing Hermione to feed her the potion. A shiver ran through her as Hermione's finger brushed her lips.

"Hermione…" Fleur started, but she lost her train of thought as sleepiness overcame her again, using the last of her strength to squeeze the brunette's hand.

* * *

Gabrielle splashed water over her face in the hospital bathroom, looking up at her reflection as the water dripped down.

It was funny, really, how similar her and Fleur looked now that they were both older. In childhood and teen years, the age difference between them had always been quite marked. Gabrielle remembered how people would often comment on how she was the 'charming little one.' Fleur had always been known as an ice queen growing up.

Gabrielle laughed hollowly, her laugh echoing around the empty bathroom depressingly. It is funny how the outside can often belie what really lies within. In reality, she had always been the closed off one. Charming, outgoing, but very protective of her feelings. Fleur, despite being reserved, had always indulged heavily in her emotions, loving freely, feeling everything. Gabrielle had always wished she had been brave enough to be like Fleur.

She gathered up her handbag and a bouquet of flowers that had been lying on the floor, quite forgotten, and took a deep breath.

When Gabrielle entered Fleur's room she was not entirely surprised to find Hermione sitting at her sister's bedside again watching her sleep. It looked as if the English witch had been crying.

"Has she been awake?" Gabrielle asked softly, putting her bag down and searching for a tall glass to place the flowers in.

"Briefly," Hermione said, her voice hoarse. She eyed the flowers that Gabrielle was placing artfully in a glass.

"Hydrangeas. Fleur's favourite," Gabrielle explained, "Are the results from her tests back?"

Hermione looked almost as pained as Fleur did when she was conscious.

"Erm, I'm only assisting, when the lead mediwizard comes we can inform you and your mother at the same time."

"Oh," Gabrielle commented, a little concerned, "Well mother should be here soon."

Hermione nodded, clearing her throat and wiping discreetly at the corner of her eye.

"Well, I suppose I'd better get back to it," she said, pulling a rather unconvincing smile and getting up to leave the room, "I'll see you soon. With the mediwizard."

Gabrielle nodded.

* * *

 _Harry paced about in Shell Cottage. He was torn. On one hand, he was consumed by the almost sickening urgency pushing him to return to find the horcruxes. On the other, he still couldn't get rid of the image of the mangled and tortured Hermione in his mind._

 _Fleur had locked him out of Hermione's room at first. Perhaps that was for the best. He wasn't entirely confident if he would be able to look at her without crying with the state she was in._

 _Over time though, Hermione had recovered. At first, only physically. Harry had been shocked when he was first allowed to see her. Hermione would sit on the bed, staring at the wall with hollow eyes. It scared him to his core. Almost as if she had suffered the Dementor's Kiss._

 _For that first while, Hermione wouldn't speak to anyone. Nobody except Fleur. The blonde Frenchwoman had a way with Hermione. It was as if she had an innate understanding of Hermione's needs and thoughts, always anticipating things before anyone else could._

 _It had struck him as unusual at the time. While Hermione was a bold woman in many respects, she had always been incredibly private when it came to her inner thoughts and emotions. Apart from Harry and Ron inadvertently causing her to lose her temper (or on the odd horrible occasion, cry), Hermione had always been rather good at hiding how she had felt. It was incredible that Fleur, an effective stranger to the Golden Trio, was able to read her better than her best friends._

 _Of course, on their very last week at Shell Cottage, Harry witnessed a rather startling window into Hermione's feelings himself. The Trio were making their final preparations before their return to their mission. Harry had forgotten almost immediately the potion ingredients that Hermione had asked him to search for in the garden patch outside. Reluctant to guess and risk Hermione's temper, he decided to duck back inside and ask Hermione what the plants were again._

 _Harry had lightly stepped in the back door and over to Hermione's open bedroom door when he stopped, obviously on the brink of interrupting a personal conversation. Hermione was facing the doorway, but had not seen him. She was talking rather seriously in a low tone to Fleur, rubbing at her bandaged arm._

 _In an elegant sweep, Fleur took Hermione in her arms, embracing her. Harry watched, rooted to the spot as he watched Hermione do something he hadn't seen her do in their entire time at Hogwarts: relax. In fact, it appeared as if she was almost melting into the blonde girl's arms. Then as Fleur drew away, something infinitely more curious happened. Fleur kissed Hermione gently on the cheek. This in itself was not strange, Fleur often greeted people by kissing them on the cheeks. But Hermione's face went bright red at the touch._

 _And that's when Harry realised. His best friend was falling._

* * *

Apolline arrived right at the strike of visiting hours. She greeted the hospital staff with her usual frosty Delacour front, but in truth her stomach was in knots. When she had kissed Fleur goodbye the previous night, her daughter had looked already dead. She appeared as if she were almost a ghost.

Apolline bit her lip as her heels clicked along the pristine hospital floors, scrunching her nose at the smell of bleach. As she arrived at Fleur's room she saw her youngest daughter already at the bedside reading a paper. This was entirely usual. Gabrielle from a young age had leaned in to the charm her Veela heritage gifted her, however un-Delacour like.

"Ah, you are both here already," a low voice commented from the doorway. Apolline turned around to see a rather pale and thin looking mediwizard standing in the doorway, Hermione at his side. Next to the slightly tanned, Hermione, this man looked as if he could be one of his own patients. She supposed mediwizards often worked odd hours and the poor man likely hadn't seen the sun for some time.

"Bonjour," Gabrielle smiled with her characteristic charm. Apolline nodded stiffly. She was afraid that even opening her mouth would unleash the flood of emotions she was barely holding back.

The man cleared his throat. Apolline's sharp eyes immediately picked up that Hermione was looking everywhere but at the occupants in the room. Her stomach dropped.

From that point on, it was as if everything the mediwizard said was from at the end of a very long tunnel.

"…organs shutting down…"

Apolline's mind turned to a young Fleur, crying as she had screamed at her for showing weakness at an important social event. How foolish she had been. To care so strongly about appearances when life is so fleeting…

"…unfortunately, nothing we can do…"

Apolline bit down hard on the inside of her cheek. The tears and howls of despair were nearing the surface and she was afraid she wouldn't be able to hold them back much longer. Her mind turned to a scared and shaken Fleur, awoken after the Triwizard Tournament to face the horrors that had occurred in the final task. What had she said to comfort her daughter? She had chided her for coming last.

"…focus on making her comfortable…"

Apolline couldn't take much longer. She was breaking into pieces inside. She nodded abruptly at the doctor.

"I zink we 'ave 'eard enough, Monsieur. I am afraid I am entirely lacking in confidence regarding your skill and experience to make such a diagnosis. As such, I will be requesting a second opinion."

The mediwizard looked a little affronted, but nodded all the same, backing out of the room to grant them privacy. Hermione remained, flitting at the edge of the room. It was as if she were desperate to stay, but reluctant to intrude. Watching the social awkwardness with disapproval prompted something in her memory. Of course.

She rummaged frantically in her bag before producing a piece of parchment.

"'Ermione, ze clan of Veela 'ave provided a response to your research," she said, pushing the parchment into her hands.

As Hermione took the parchment with shaking hands, Apolline risked a glance at Fleur lying unconscious in the bed. That was the final wrench of her heart that caused the emotions to break through the surface. She nodded briskly to Hermione and Gabrielle before sweeping out of the room.

* * *

Fleur's eyes fluttered ever so slightly open. The pain was worse now, still dulled by the potions but spread even further than she thought could be possible. She looked through her dark lashes at the two figures across the room. One with platinum blonde hair like hers, the other with familiar bushy curls.

"I am sorry, maman gets even ruder when she is upset," she could hear Gabrielle saying.

"Its fine, really," Hermione replied politely.

"I'll go and track her down. I am sure yelling at me will make her feel better," Gabrielle said as she left the room. If Fleur were not wracked with pain she would have laughed.

Hermione, left to her own devices now, came to sit in her usual seat at Fleur's bedside. Fleur wanted to say something, but she was still waking, still so weak. Hermione seemed engrossed in the parchment in her hand.

This was fine, Fleur continued to wake slowly, gaining more energy, although feeling the pain more clearly.

"I remember when I used to be the one sitting at your bedside," she said softly, and Hermione jumped.

"You're awake!" Hermione exclaimed.

"I used to stroke your hair while you slept, it seemed to help with the nightmares," Fleur said, still speaking softly.

"I—erm—honestly you just being there helped with them," Hermione said with uncharacteristic shyness.

"I liked being there for you. You know, I sometimes wondered, if things were different… if there was no war and I had never met Bill…" Fleur trailed off. There was no point bringing up her buried feelings to Hermione now. It would only inflict Hermione with more pain if she truly did feel strongly about her.

"Fleur…" Hermione said, her voice wavering with emotion. Fleur couldn't stand to see her cry.

"What does the parchment say that you have been reading so intently ma petit lionne?" Fleur said, using the pet name she had called Hermione during her recovery at Shell Cottage. It was accurate. Hermione really was a little lion, from the bushy mane of curls to her deep well of bravery and strength.

"Its… its from the Veela clan your mother sent my research to. They've responded." Hermione's voice trembled even more.

"And?" Fleur pressed.

"They say there is no cure," Hermione said, tears streaming down her face.

"Hermione," Fleur soothed, reaching up a hand to cup the girl's cheek, "It is fine, it is my own fault for allowing myself to fall in love with Bill. I knew the risks."

"Its not fair," Hermione said, tears still falling heavily, "I… I can't imagine life without you," she choked.

"This is just how things were meant to be," Fleur said softly, "Although it upsets me that it is hurting you."

This seemed to snap Hermione out of her outburst of emotion and she wiped her cheeks furiously.

"I'm sorry, here you are on your deathbed," she cringed at her inappropriate choice of words, "And you're the one comforting me. Some bloody friend I am."

"You are a perfect friend, Hermione. You have watched after me as much as I watched after you," Fleur said, taking Hermione's hand.

"I… I just wish I could do more… I wish I could cure you." Hermione said, looking devastated again.

Fleur drew the younger woman's hand to her lips and kissed softly.

"You are already doing plenty. I feel better just being around you." Fleur said, smiling gently at Hermione.

"Better? Fleur, you're dying. I know the pain you're in right now," Hermione said, an incredulous look on her face.

Hermione had always been a beautiful girl, but she had grown to appreciate her beauty so much more in the time since Shell Cottage. There was an intensity about her, no doubt linked to her fiery temper and high intelligence, that drew Fleur to her. She thought about what she had said earlier to Hermione. It was true, if there hadn't been a war, if Fleur had spent time with Hermione before she had met Bill… things could have been different.

The pain almost seemed to ease a little as she smiled at Hermione.

"There is no-one else in the world I would rather die with," she grinned, squeezing Hermione's hand. Morbid as it was, it seemed to spur Hermione. Fleur recognised that fiery intensity building up in Hermione's brown eyes.

"I've… I've got to go…" Hermione said suddenly, "Tell your family I am sorry, but I will be back as soon as I can."

"Where are you going?" Fleur asked, baffled. She was surprised at how much it upset her to think that Hermione would leave her side.

"Erm. France. To visit the clan."

"Why?" Fleur asked, still confused.

"Its not over 'til its over, Fleur. I don't believe I can't find a cure." Hermione said with a burning passion. She scrunched up the parchment and stood up, stooping to kiss Fleur on the forehead before she rushed out of the room.

If Hermione had stayed, and perhaps if she had been less distracted, she might have noticed the blush that her kiss had produced on the pale complexion of Fleur.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hi all, I know for the last chapter italics signalled it was a flashback. But for the purposes of Gabrielle and Apolline talking, italics indicates they're speaking French. Thank you for your reviews, they make my day x**

* * *

Harry ran a hand through his messy jet black hair. Try as he might, he could never quite get it looking tidy. He had just come from St Mungo's where he had been hoping to catch Hermione. He hadn't seen his best friend since Bill's funeral and truth be told, he was worried. It wasn't like Hermione to fall off the face of the earth. Him, Hermione and Ron usually caught up several times a week, even at their busiest.

He was walking down the street at a brisk pace towards Ginny and Hermione's place. Deep down he knew that if something were seriously wrong with Hermione, Ginny would have owled him and Ron. Even still, he couldn't quite shake the feeling that there had to be something big going on for Hermione for her to fall out of contact.

As the wind sliced at his exposed neck and hands, it occurred to him that he could have just apparated there. However, he could never quite shake some of his Muggle upbringing habits. He would always be fond of walking as a way to clear his mind and calm him. His mind cast back to grim holidays at Privet Drive, where going for long walks around the neighbourhood were his only solace.

Finally, Harry reached the old wooden building where Ginny and Hermione lived, taking the concrete steps two at a time. He had just reached the door to their apartment and raised his hand to knock when the door swung open. Harry paused in surprise, his fist still poised to knock.

"'Mione?" he uttered slowly. Hermione looked positively wild. Her bushy curls were even more untamed than usual and her eyes had a determined, fiery look to her. She had a small duffel bag slung over one shoulder and her jacket on.

"Sorry, Harry, no time to talk—I'm on my way out," she said stoutly cocking her head to one side impatiently as he moved slowly to let her pass.

"Erm, where?" he said, still thrown off.

"France," Hermione said briskly, waving goodbye quickly before striding down the hallway and down the stairs.

Harry scratched at his temple, confused. He walked in through the still-open door to find Ginny sitting at the kitchen table.

"Er, did I hear that right?" he asked, taking a seat. Ginny sighed heavily over her mug of tea.

"Yes… Unfortunately," she answered, a sad tone in her voice.

"Gin, what's going on? What's wrong?" Harry asked, now becoming increasingly worried about Hermione.

"Its Fleur," Ginny said gently. Harry's lips formed a thin frown. They both knew how strongly Hermione felt about Fleur. It had been painful for the two to watch Hermione pine for the blonde that she couldn't have.

"What's happened?" Harry asked. His mind was already racing. He couldn't imagine Fleur having a cruel reaction to Hermione telling her about her feelings. She may be infamous for being an ice queen, but everyone knew that she was sensitive and caring underneath that façade. Perhaps she had told her about her feelings at Bill's funeral? That might have led to an unpleasant encounter.

"She's dying." Ginny said, looking down at her barely touched tea. Harry certainly hadn't expected that.

"Oh, Hermione…" Harry said, his heart going out to his best friend.

* * *

Fleur was in the garden at Shell Cottage watching a flurry of butterflies cross the little garden. She was sitting on the little wooden bench with Bill like they always used to during the hot summers.

"You're the toughest bird I ever met, you know," Bill said, grinning his usual lopsided grin at Fleur.

"You haven't seen me recently," Fleur said bitterly.

"You really think you can be beaten by an old Veela curse?" Bill said, still smiling his little lopsided smile, "That's not the Fleur Delacour I know and love."

"Hmn, well it seems it is not up to me. It doesn't look like I will be able to live without the one I love," Fleur said sadly, taking Bill's hand.

"I'm not the only one you love," Bill said slowly, his green eyes meeting hers.

"What are you talking about Bill?"

"You've had feelings growing for a while, Fleur." Bill said, his voice echoing around the garden, "Its not a bad thing, you don't have to repress it like that."

"Repressing feelings seems to be a far better strategy judging by the fact I am the one dying, not my maman or Gabrielle," Fleur said gloomily. Bill squeezed her hand.

* * *

Gabrielle sat by Fleur's bedside as her sister began to stir. She was spending less and less time awake, which worried Gabrielle. Thankfully, Apolline was out picking them up some food so Gabrielle was able to have a moment alone with her sister for once.

 _"_ _You're awake,"_ Gabrielle said brightly, hoping vainly that she could somehow cheer away Fleur's pain. She saw Fleur wince.

 _"_ _I keep dreaming of Bill,"_ Fleur said, her voice quite hoarse. Gabrielle instantly reached for a glass of water to feed to her.

 _"_ _Oh, Fleur,"_ Gabrielle said soothingly, _"We're all here for you. Me and maman… I am unsure where Hermione has got to lately though, she is usually always at your side."_

 _"_ _She has gone to France,"_ Fleur said softly, briefly closing her eyes against the resurgence of pain.

 _"_ _France?"_ Gabrielle echoed, _"Are you sure that wasn't a dream too?"_

 _"_ _Non, she said she was to see the Veela clan to challenge them over whether there is a cure,"_ Fleur answered weakly.

 _"_ _That girl really does love you,"_ Gabrielle said gently. Fleur's eyes were still shut and she appeared to be drifting off again.

 _"_ _I feel… I feel as if maybe I have feelings for her too…"_ Fleur said dreamily, before slipping out of consciousness again.

Tears welled up in Gabrielle's eyes. Even on her deathbed, Fleur was still far braver than Gabrielle ever had been. She curled her hands into fists so tight that her nails were digging into her palms. Even though her feelings were literally killing her, Fleur was still brave enough to freely admit to them.

Apolline returned to the room, sitting in the chair beside Gabrielle. She began unpacking their lunches calmly, oblivious to the fact she had just missed a rare moment of Fleur being awake.

 _"_ _This is your fault, you know."_ Gabrielle said darkly. Apolline looked up, surprised.

 _"_ _What is?"_ she asked curtly.

 _"_ _That I'm as emotionally stunted as you,"_ Gabrielle said unhappily, _"Your constant hassling not to give in to feelings, to keep a hold of our heart tightly."_

 _"_ _Would you rather end up like this?"_ Apolline said, gesturing at Fleur's unconscious form in the hospital bed, _"At any rate, I warned Fleur, but I still supported her with Bill. Nothing was stopping you from doing the same."_

Gabrielle fell silent. Her mother had a point. Since moving to Scandinavia, her mother hadn't even been around her, and she had still continued to keep everyone at a careful arm's length.

She had met a man once, Anton. He had scruffy brown hair and a cheeky smile. Almost instantly she had felt a connection to him. Anton had moved in the same social circles as her and was similar to her, always lighting up a room. Upon talking to him, she had found that she was even more drawn to him. He was charming, intelligent, funny… and just _clicked_ with her. It was of course at that moment that the fear pricked her heart. When he had asked her out she had said no. She had been too afraid to give him a chance and lost the chance to ever see what could have been.

 _"_ _Hermione has gone to France,"_ Gabrielle commented, changing the subject.

 _"_ _Why has she done that?"_ Apolline said curtly, _"Isn't she supposed to be helping to look after Fleur?"_

 _"_ _She's gone to challenge the Veela clan. She believes there is still some kind of a cure."_ Gabrielle said, looking at Apolline. She watched as a look of surprise flitted through Apolline's cerulean eyes before her face showed an emotion Gabrielle had rarely seen her express. Respect.

* * *

Hermione pulled her cloak more tightly around her as she picked her way through the woodland. The trees here had a skeletal, creepy look about them. It almost reminded her of the atmosphere of the Forbidden Forest. She smiled grimly, hoping that she wouldn't come across another Grawp or Aragog.

She had been walking for perhaps half an hour when she caught the sound of something on the wind. Singing.

The singing sounded so sweet, so inviting, if Hermione wasn't in search of the Veela, she would have been compelled to follow the noise anyway.

She followed the sweet music and came to a clearing where the trees looked far more lively. The grass was green and there was an abundance of brightly coloured flowers scattered around. But what struck Hermione most were the inhabitants of the clearing.

There were about fifty women of incredible beauty, all with silver-blonde hair and startling blue eyes. She couldn't quite ascertain their age, but thinking of how Apolline looked very young for her age, she figured it was a gift of the Veela.

"Que fais-tu ici?" a woman asked, drawing forward. A number of other Veela stood behind the woman, she was evidently the leader.

"Erm, I wrote to you… through Apolline Delacour… I want to speak to you about the Veela curse," Hermione said, inwardly cursing herself for not having prepared an approach earlier. She was usually so prepared and planned, she didn't like suddenly finding herself free wheeling like this. But it was for Fleur.

"Ze Veela do not freely share zair secrets wiz 'umans," the woman said, rather hypnotically, "Especially zose zey do not know." She was stunningly beautiful, drawing Hermione in, but simultaneously seemed to exude a sense of danger.

"I'm Hermione. Hermione Granger. And you?" Hermione said, boldly pressing on. She had come this far, she wasn't about to be defeated by the simple lack of introductions.

"Venus," the Veela sighed, and Hermione felt the warmth of her thrall spread over her. It was intoxicating. Hermione shook her head. She was here for _Fleur._

"Erm, well, Venus," Hermione continued, "My… friend, Fleur… she is quarter Veela and is dying because her husband has died. I need to find a cure."

"What iz it to you what 'appens to Fleur?" Venus said, still talking in a soothingly hypnotic voice. Hermione felt the warmth of the thrall encouraging her to bare all, to spill her soul and give this woman anything she wanted to hear.

"I love her," Hermione blurted, blushing a little. The Veela thrall almost appeared to have the effect of veritaserum. _Thank god Fleur is only a quarter Veela,_ Hermione thought suddenly, thinking uncomfortably about being compelled to bare her soul to the blonde beauty.

"Hmmn, an honourable reason indeed," Venus said regally, turning to look at the other Veela, "But unfortunately, we cannot simply tell you because you say you love her. You must complete a task before we will tell you what you want to know."

Venus turned back to Hermione, a predatory look in her eyes.

"What is the task?" Hermione said, unfazed by this new obstacle. She would do anything to save Fleur.

"First, you must go 'unting." Venus said with a smile, "Ze Veela are natural predators. 'Unt and bring us a unicorn to earn our respect."

"Fine." Hermione said firmly, turning on her heel, "I'll be back with a unicorn."

Hermione couldn't see, but the Veela exchanged glances, surprised.

She trod out into the woodlands again, walking for what felt like hours. The sky darkened from its light grey to a deep charcoal as the evening progressed. Hermione's legs and feet were starting to ache. But it didn't matter. It was nothing compared to the excruciating pain Fleur was going through right this minute. Hermione bit her lip and kept searching. She regretted not bringing some books to the woods with her. She might have had one about how to track unicorns.

Just as she was beginning to despair, she saw a glowing up ahead. Hermione quickly ducked behind a scraggly bush, holding her breath. The luminescent unicorn cantered over to a pond, lowering its head to drink.

Hermione carefully crept out from behind the bush, taking out her wand. She crept slowly towards the unicorn, wand raised, tensed and ready.

The unicorn kept drinking calmly, oblivious to the treat sneaking up on it. Hermione's breath caught in her throat. The unicorn was beautiful, painfully so. But more than that, it was innocent. It was a creature calmly drinking at the pond. It was cruel to kill it.

Hermione paused, pained. Every fibre of her being was driving her to do anything to save Fleur. But she just couldn't kill a magical creature. It went against her very nature. She bit her lip. The unicorn wouldn't be drinking forever. She had to decide quick. She cast a stunning spell, followed quickly by a binding spell.

Hermione was nervous as she levitated the live and bound unicorn back to the clearing, watching a number of intense blue eyes snap to look at her. Venus was waiting.

"Ze unicorn, it is still alive," Venus said, an edge to her voice. Hermione nodded.

"I couldn't kill it, its not in my nature," she said, again alarmingly aware of how honest the warmth of the thrall was making her. Venus inclined her head. Hermione braced herself.

"You 'ave passed ze task. You 'ave shown your respect for ze lives of magical creatures."

Hermione exhaled the breath she hadn't realised she was holding.

"Thank God. So, is there a cure?" Hermione asked eagerly. Venus drew close to her bringing up a delicate hand to cup Hermione's cheek. She ran a long nailed finger down Hermione's skin. There were a lot of things that should have been running through Hermione's head in this moment, but all she could think was how strange it was that the Veela had such perfectly manicured nails for someone who lived in the middle of a forest.

"Zere is no cure," Venus purred. Hermione's heart dropped right down into the bottom of her stomach. She felt like she was going to be sick.

"Do not fret, ma cherie, zere are plenty of Veela left in ze world to satisfy your needs," Venus said, a glint in her deep blue eyes. The warmth of the thrall intensified and Hermione felt the hot creeping of arousal awakening within her. Venus drew closer, her lips almost touching Hermione's neck, "I can 'elp you wiz your needs, 'Ermione…"

This woman was impossibly beautiful, Hermione felt a fogginess in her mind, all she could process was the beauty of this woman and the hot burning need for her. She wanted her right now.

"No." Hermione said suddenly, surprising even herself. She pushed Venus away softly and took two steps back. "No, I love Fleur. That doesn't change whether there is a cure or not. I'm going back to her."

She turned on her heel and began striding away, tears prickling at her eyes.

"'Ermione," Venus called out. Hermione stopped and looked back at the Veela.

"'Ermione, zat is ze cure. Ze love of anuzzer true mate."

* * *

Apolline paced around the hospital room impatiently. She was so agitated she was almost about to chew her nails off. Gabrielle was sitting in the chair at Fleur's bedside, holding the unconscious girl's hand. There was a gentle knock at the open door and the mediwizard entered.

"Finally!" Apolline roared, "My daughter 'as not opened 'er eyes at all today! What is wrong wiz 'er?!"

The mediwizard flitted nervously to Fleur's side, moving his wand carefully with diagnostic spells. He paused for a moment, serious. He then straightened up and walked back to Apolline with a grave look.

"Ms. Delacour… I'm afraid… I'm afraid the end is near, its probably time for you to start saying your goodbyes."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello! Its the final chapter! Hope you enjoy x**

* * *

Gabrielle, for all her careful avoidance of feelings, felt like her heart was breaking as she said goodbye to Fleur. Tears were streaming down her face as she barely managed to stammer out a weak goodbye. She didn't know why she even tried, no words could possibly do justice to how she felt for her sister.

She remembered her first day at school. On her very first step into the school yards, she had stumbled and skinned her knee. Quite badly, in fact she still had a scar from it. While her mother had huffed at her wails and tears in public, Fleur had been at her side in a second. Fleur had kissed her knee and wiped her tears. She had always been there when Gabrielle had stumbled.

Fleur's eyes fluttered open. She seemed very weak now and her breath was uneven. Gabrielle's tears were flowing freely still as she held Fleur's hand tightly.

"Gabrielle…" Fleur murmured weakly, "Maman…" Apolline leaned forward and stroked her eldest daughter's hair. She used to stroke Fleur's hair like this as a child when Fleur had awoken from a nightmare and was afraid to fall back asleep.

 _"_ _I never meant to be hard on you Fleur,"_ Apolline said, her voice uncharacteristically shaky. She stopped and took a deep shuddering breath as tears sprung forth. _"I only ever wanted to keep you and Gabrielle safe and happy."_

 _"_ _I have been happy, maman, so happy…"_ Fleur murmured.

Gabrielle's body was shaking with the sobs wracking through it. This couldn't be happening. She watched through blurred tears as her mother stroked Fleur's hair.

A loud deafening slam wrenched Gabrielle from her grief and she turned to the doorway. The door had been flung open and a rather wild looking Hermione was standing in the room, chest heaving as she was out of breath. Her hair was even more untamed than usual and she looked as if she hadn't slept in days.

"Hermione… We're saying goodbyes…" Gabrielle explained as her sobs resumed.

Hermione didn't reply, her eyes fixed on Fleur, walking across the room as if in a trance. Apolline looked up, surprised, drawing away from Fleur as Hermione approached the bedside.

"Hermione..?" Fleur murmured weakly, looking up at the girl as she approached.

"Fleur… I should have told you this a long time ago," Hermione said, her voice firm, "I love you."

Apolline let out a gasp of shock as Hermione then dipped her head down and kissed Fleur softly on the lips.

"'Ermione!" Apolline shrieked, wrenching Hermione off her daughter. Gabrielle watched silently, completely thrown by what had happened, but not entirely surprised.

"Zis is entirely inappropriate!" Apolline was shouting at a rather sheepish looking Hermione.

"Maman…"

"I mean 'ow dare you come in 'ere and zrow yourself at my daughter while she is on 'er deazbed?!"

"Maman!"

Apolline halted in her censuring of Hermione to look at Gabrielle. Gabrielle's breath was caught in her throat as she pointed wordlessly at Fleur, who had sat up in bed.

"Fleur?" Apolline asked, her eyes widening.

"The pain… its gone…" Fleur said, and Hermione took the opportunity to slip away from Apolline and back to Fleur's side, taking her hand.

"Really?" Gabrielle asked, her jaw dropping.

"Hermione… you did this?" Fleur asked, turning to the bushy haired witch at her side. Hermione nodded. Fleur reached a hand behind Hermione's neck and pulled her into a kiss.

Apolline gasped and Gabrielle took her arm, holding her still. She didn't think her mother was about to snap at Hermione again… But you could still never be sure with Apolline Delacour.

"What is going on?" Apolline cut in. Fleur and Hermione pulled apart.

"The Veela… They said that it could be cured…" at this, Hermione blushed a little, "…By connecting with another true mate…"

Fleur grinned at this and Gabrielle clapped her hands together.

"These feelings, I feel for you…" Fleur started.

"Healed you!" Gabrielle exclaimed. She wiped the tears from her face and turned away from the others. While she was so relieved that Fleur was not going to die, it was a strange turn for her. Fleur being afflicted by this had served as a justification for all the years she had spent keeping everyone at arm's distance. All these wasted years, wasted opportunities… she would never know what could have been. All because she could never be as brave as Fleur. Another tear silently fell.

As soon as she got back to Scandinavia she would be tracking down Anton.

* * *

Apolline waited haughtily in the reception of St Mungo's as Gabrielle and Hermione fussed over Fleur's discharge. All the tests had been cleared, it really appeared as if Fleur's affliction had completely gone.

Apolline paced as she turned her mind to the moments when she had been saying her goodbyes to Fleur. Fleur had said she had lived a happy life. The tone in Fleur's voice sounded like she if she were to die she would die with no regrets. Could Apolline say the same about herself?

Her daughters finished up at the reception, coming back over to her, trailed by Hermione. She could see the same familiar reservation back in both Gabrielle and Fleur's eyes. They always had this look in their eyes when they saw her, ever since childhood. She sighed.

Tears sprung into her eyes again as she threw her arms around her daughters, pulling them tight.

 _"_ _I love you two so much,"_ she sobbed, _"I know I've never shown it as much as I could have. But from now on that is going to change."_

* * *

Hermione could not believe the whirlwind of events that had just happened as she walked home, hand in hand with Fleur Delacour herself. She hadn't stopped grinning since Fleur had sat up in bed, and although her face was starting to hurt from it, she couldn't care less.

"I never thought that this would happen…" she murmured, glancing at Fleur and the way the street lights were making her silver-blonde hair shimmer.

"I never thought I would see the day when Gabrielle and maman would stop guarding their hearts," Fleur said softly, looking out into the darkness.

"What about your heart?" Hermione asked, squeezing Fleur's hand a little with her nervousness. She had gone out on quite the limb announcing to Fleur that she loved her. And although Fleur had kissed her back, and was now holding her hand, she was still unsure that Fleur's feelings were as sure as hers.

"I…" Fleur began before trailing off. Hermione's breath caught in her throat with anxiety. But then she noticed a faint pink blush creeping across Fleur's face.

"I think I have had feelings for you since Shell Cottage, but I was with Bill, and I buried them," Fleur said, stopping and turning to Hermione with those intense cerulean eyes, "Then when he died… I just didn't want to feel anything. I wanted to fight anything that felt disloyal to him."

"And now?" Hermione asked, taking Fleur by both hands as they stood in the dark and deserted street.

"Now I am done fighting," Fleur said with a smile, pulling Hermione in and kissing her.


End file.
